


with a little help from my friends

by weaslays



Category: Ocean's (Movies), Ocean's 8
Genre: F/F, debbie ocean and lou miller are in love and if u disagree ur wrong, listen... this movie has taken over my life, this is domestic loubbie with kiDS what else do you NEED
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 22:13:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15277293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weaslays/pseuds/weaslays
Summary: Who knew a convicted felon, her wife, and their ragtag group of criminal best friends would all be so good at raising a kid, anyway?or; a series of (unconnected) one-shots about Debbie and Lou's kids, and their lives with the Ocean's women.





	with a little help from my friends

**Author's Note:**

> **Sandra Bullock and Cate Blanchett's gay chemistry jumped out of the screen, hit me in the head, and forced me to write this, so here we are now. enjoy!**

“Momma, Momma, wake up!”

“Mmmmmnnhhhng.”

“Mom, Mommy, Mom, Mommy, Mom, Mommy-”

“ _Mmmmmmmhnggg._ ”

“Mommy, Mommy, Mom, Mom, Mom, Mommy, wake _up_ , wake _up_ , _wake up, wake up_ -”

Debbie groans and opens her eyes, admitting defeat. She blinks a few times, her eyesight adjusting to the light streaming in from their apartment’s windows, and is just about to let out a hefty yawn when a hand flings out to hit her in the face.

“What the-”

“Ocean, get your kid off my stomach.”

Debbie smirks as she reaches out to take the aforementioned kid, trapping her in a hug. Their four-year old daughter squeals as Debbie burrows her face into her cheek and blows a raspberry. “She’s your daughter too, you know.” she reminds the woman - or, more accurately, the talking lump of blankets - beside her.

Lou flips over to face Debbie, who smiles at the disgruntled expression on her wife’s face. “Not before 7 A.M, she isn’t.” she grumbles.

Debbie rolls her eyes, ready to retort, when their daughter - presumably upset that she hasn’t been the center of her mother’s attention for about two seconds - screeches “ _Mom! Mommy!_ ” and flails, succeeding in elbowing both of her mothers in the face. Lou groans. “What’s gotten you so excited at this time of the day, pipsqueak?”

Their daughter’s eyes widen, almost as if scandalized that her mother had to ask at all. She wrestles her way out of Debbie’s embrace and jumps up on the bed, spreading her arms out dramatically. “My aunties are visiting today!”

_Oh._

Lou lets out another unearthly groan and hides her face in the pillow. “That’s _today_?”

Debbie does a quick mental check of the calendar and sighs. “Yup. It’s the third Saturday of the month, and we were at Tammy’s place the last time, so it’s our turn to host now.”

“Why did we ever even _agree_ to start this stupid tradition?” Lou whines.

“Because friendship is important, and my aunties are your best friends!” their daughter exclaims proudly, and Debbie grins at her. “That’s right, baby,” she says. “Now, could you go back to your room so your mommies can shower and dress up? We’ll be ready to make breakfast with you in half an hour.”

“Okay, Mommy!” their daughter says - the volume of her voice and her level of cheeriness still _way_ too high for 6:35 in the morning, Debbie thinks - before leaping off her mothers’ bed and running out the door.

“Love you, baby!” Debbie calls out after her. Then she turns back to Lou and finds her already staring back at her, a small smile playing on her lips and a twinkle in her eyes. “What’re you looking at, weirdo?” she says. Lou moves closer to her, until their noses are almost touching. “Oh, nothing,” she coos. “Just admiring how fucking _delicious_ my wife looks in the morning, and how cute she is when she’s talking to our kid.”

Debbie rolls her eyes, but grins and kisses Lou anyway. They lay there silently, content and comfortable, before Debbie sighs and sits up, moving to get out of bed. “Alright, sweet talker, I can feel you falling back asleep already, and we promised Lana we’d help her make breakfast for when the girls come in a few hours.” She stands up, looking around for her slippers before sliding into them and making her way towards the bathroom. She glances back at Lou, who’s slowly trying to sit up in bed. “We can stay in bed another twenty minutes, then shower together to save time?” the blonde tries. Debbie gives her a pointed look. “We both know how long it’ll take for us to finish if we shower together, so no.”

“Not if I promise that I can make you come in five min-”

Debbie glares at her wife. “Not. Happening.” Then she shuts the bathroom door, blocking the smirking blonde on the bed from her view.

\- -

Forty-five minutes later, Debbie and Lou are both in the kitchen, bustling around the cupboards and preparing ingredients while Lana sits on the counter behind them, happily babbling away. “Auntie Daph said she’s gonna take me to her new movie next week!”

“Oh, she did, didn’t she?” Debbie says, exchanging an amused look with Lou as she lays a few pans on the stove and turns the heat on. “Because she _definitely_ didn’t invite your moms.”

“She said it’s because I have more class than you and all my other aunties,” Lana states matter-of-factly. “Then I asked Auntie Daph what class means, an’ she said it just means I’m cooler.”

Debbie rolls her eyes, because that’s _exactly_ the type of thing Daphne would say. “And when did she tell you this, again?”

“The other day, Mommy,” Lana says, swinging her legs back and forth on the counter. “We used FaceTime on your iPad while you and Mom were out buying food.”

Debbie shares another look with Lou; this time, it’s less amusement and more love and softness - although they’d never voice it out loud to the girls, they’re endlessly thankful for the family they’ve become over the past few years, and for the love and safety that the rest of the group constantly put effort into making Lana feel.

Sure, raising your child in the constant presence of a group of criminals might not be the most conventional way to do it, but Debbie and Lou wouldn’t have had it any other way. What’s important is that Lana would grow up knowing she was loved and safe and that both her moms and all 6 of her aunts would do anything to protect her; and, well, if she happened to grow up also knowing how to hotwire a car or steal every piece of jewelry off a person without being noticed, then that would just be some bonus life skills. Debbie and Lou figured it wouldn’t hurt.

Presently, Debbie starts opening different drawers to gather placemats and silverware. She sets them out on the counter and nudges her daughter. “Hey, baby, wanna watch Mommy set the table?”

“Sure!” Lana says. She swings off the counter, and she and Debbie make their way out to the dining room just as Lou takes over at the stove to make pancakes.

“You excited to see your aunties, baby?” Debbie asks while she lays out placemats, plates, and silverware on the table. She goes back and forth between the kitchen drawers and the dining table, fetching extras. Lana nods enthusiastically from where she’s perched (her highchair at the corner of the dining table), her little pigtails flying up and down. Debbie’s heart grows about five sizes - their daughter may be adopted, but with blond hair and blue eyes to match her mom’s, she could pass as a younger version of Lou any day.

“Auntie Amita said she’d have lots of gifts for me today,” Lana says. She squints, as if she’s trying to rack her mind for the other things her aunts have promised her. “Oooh, and Aunt Nine-Ball said she’d show me lotsa cool new computer games!”

Debbie resists the urge to roll her eyes at how predictable her friends are; Lana’s going to get jewelry from Amita, obviously, and she’s willing to bet a quarter of her Toussaint money that Nine-Ball’s ‘cool new computer games’ involve a lot less _actual games_ and a lot more _hacking into different worldwide networks._

She makes a mental note, then, to keep her eye on Nine-Ball today. The last person who had bonded with Lana during the girls’ monthly reunions and taught her their _craft_ , so to speak, was Constance, two months ago; Lou and Debbie had collectively lost five watches and three rings the following week. Debbie’s not eager for a repeat performance, this time of the hacking-into-their-home’s-systems style.

“So are you just gonna keep setting the table until our guests arrive, or do you actually wanna help me make the food, Ocean?” Lou calls from the kitchen. Debbie rolls her eyes and calls back, “We’re coming, drama queen,” before setting the last glass down and bending to pick Lana up from the chair. She carries her daughter to the kitchen and sets her down on the counter, then hip-checks Lou away from the stove.

They spend the new few hours cooking and baking, working in tandem and moving around each other easily like a well-oiled machine as their daughter watches over them from the counter, chattering away and squealing every time her mothers kiss each other or lean over to tickle her.

The first knock on the front door comes just as Lou’s setting the last platter on the table. “I’ll get it,” Debbie calls. She opens the door to see Tammy, sporting her usual mom-clothes and holding a teddy bear - that Debbie’s half sure is larger than Lana - in her arms.

Debbie resists the urge to laugh as she gives her friend a kiss on the cheek, ushers her in, and shuts the door. She loves that her friends adore her daughter, she really does, but considering the amount of gifts Lana gets every time her aunts visit, she’s going to grow up spoiled to death. “Where’d you get the teddy bear?” Debbie asks as Tammy sets it down on the living room sofa. “Bought it from an old family-owned toy shop down the street from my place,” Tammy answers, shrugging. “They make the stuffed toys by hand, and they’re all cute and cheap, so.”

“You got it _legally_?” Debbie asks, feigning shock. Tammy rolls her eyes. “Shut up.” she retorts, and Debbie’s about to respond with something equally as mature when a shrill cry of “ _Auntie Tammy!_ ” interrupts her. Lana barrels out of the kitchen and is lifted into Tammy’s arms in an instant.

“Oh, I missed you, honey,” Tammy coos as she peppers Lana’s head with kisses. “One month is _way_ too long to go without seeing you.”

Lana nods enthusiastically as Tammy sets her down. “It really is, Auntie! I have so much to-” she cuts herself off when she spots the teddy bear on the sofa, and she gasps. “Is that for me?”

“You bet it is, love,” Tammy says, beaming.

“It’s _so cute_ , Auntie!” Lana squeals, already draped over the teddy bear on the sofa and hugging it tightly. “I love it, thank you thank you thank you!”

Someone knocks on the door again - Debbie can faintly hear Amita and Constance arguing from behind it - and Debbie hustles over to answer it, but not before hissing “Stop spoiling my kid!” into Tammy’s ear.

(Tammy replies gracefully and maturely by sticking her tongue out, blowing a raspberry, and proceeding to sing “You Don’t Own Me” under her breath.)

\- -

Once everyone’s arrived (Daphne being the last to walk in, scoffing “Nah, you’re all just early.” in response to Nine-Ball’s “Running a lil late there, Kluger?”) and seated around the table, talking noisily amongst each other, Debbie finally allows herself to relax.

She’s seated at the head of the table, with Lana in her high chair right next to her and Lou in the seat to her right, while the rest of the group occupy the seats down the table. Constance, Amita, and Tammy sit at Lou’s side, with Rose, Nine-Ball, and Daphne across from them respectively, and all are absorbed in different conversations with each other.

As Debbie sits back and observes the slight cacophony with a content smile on her face, she can’t help but feel nothing but pure happiness and admiration for the people around her. To think that all of the laughter and love the past few years of her life have been filled with was all because of this group of women - who had come together because of a jewelry heist, too - seemed crazy to her, but she couldn't imagine a life more perfect. She felt safe knowing that Lana would grow up surrounded by the most fun and support possible, coming from the best people Debbie knew.

(Well, ‘best’ might be a term used loosely when talking about a group consisting mainly of women who made a living doing illegal things (or used to, at least), but it looked like they were doing a pretty splendid job on Lana, anyhow. Who knew a convicted felon, her wife, and their ragtag group of criminal best friends would all be so good at raising a kid?)

**Author's Note:**

>  **two things:**  
>     
>  **1) i was supposed to make the brunch scene at the end longer and with dialogue between the girls, but i had zero ideas and got lazy, so. whoops?**
> 
> **2) i slid in a Princess Diaries reference in here and if u noticed it ur a champ, 10 points to u**
> 
> come yell about girls n gay ships with me on twitter (@heybechloe) or tumblr (@lopierce) !!


End file.
